


Smoke Signals

by Sjoeks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Adventure, Angst, Drama, Escape, F/M, Fire, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Muggle AU, Muggle Life, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 04:07:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjoeks/pseuds/Sjoeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Lily Evans' apartment building catches fire in the middle of the night, she is trapped. Now she and James Potter need to rely on each other's help to get out of there alive. A Jily muggle AU. ONESHOT & COMPLETE</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smoke Signals

“Evening, Miss Evans.”

Lily Evans’ heart made a small summersault as a familiarly warm voice reached her ears. She could hear the grin in it without turning around, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lip as her eyes fluttered shut for a second.

That voice. She could listen to it all day.

Her hand rested on the key in the lock as she glanced over her shoulder, her thick red hair falling partly in front of her eyes. Across the hall stood the handsome neighbor from 394, smirking at her as he pushed his thick glasses higher up his nose. Her eyes trailed his ink-smudged hands as he ruffled his hair, making it stick up at an odd angle. She chuckled as she slowly turned towards him, her body heavy with fatigue.

“Mister Potter,” she greeted, tucking the unruly strand of hair behind her ear, “Fancy seeing you this late.”

“Nah,” he winked at her and she could feel the heat rise to her cheeks as she averted her eyes for a second, “I just sent my article to my editor, thought I’d stretch my legs. Care to join me for a midnight stroll?”

Oh, how she longed to say ‘yes’. The word was already forming on the back of her mouth, begging to be spoken. But she couldn’t. Her head was pounding and her back was screaming. All she wanted was to take a long hot bath with loads of bubbles and then fall asleep with the taste of tea lingering on her tongue.

It had been a heavy shift at the hospital. Family drama. A man had broken into his ex-wife’s home with a gun and had shot her, her new husband and all of the children –including his own – before shooting himself through the head. No one had survived. The youngest, a toddler still, had died on her table.

She shook her head.

“Another time,” she promised, “I’m knackered.”

“Of course,” Potter nodded solemnly, making her wonder whether she’d imagined that brief second of disappointment clouding his eyes, “Another time. Goodnight, Miss Evans. Sweet dreams.”

He tipped the side of his head and strutted down the hallway to the elevators, whistling a vaguely recognizable tune. Her eyes travelled down his broad back, resting on his preciously sculpted arse. She bit her lip. Damn, why did late shifts have to be so exhausting? Why couldn’t she just join him for that walk? It could end on his leather couch with a glass of whiskey and a passionate discussion about television and the meaning of life.

Yawning until her jaw popped, she entered her tiny bathroom, opening the tap with a sigh. The steam billowed from the slowly filling tub as she stripped off her uniform. The air was cool against her skin, and she shuddered lightly as she kicked the stiff cloth off her foot. It slid to a halt next to her overflowing laundry basket. She frowned. Perhaps she should do the laundry this weekend. She dared to bet Petunia’s house would never be found in this state of chaos.

Perfect Petunia with her perfect little family in her perfect suburban home. Gah.

The water was hot and comforting as she slid into it, pulling her hair in a top knot to keep it dry. She rolled her neck with a groan, pulling her washcloth off the rim of the tub and into the water with her foot. She’d have to shave soon, she realized as she lazily soaped her prickly legs until the bathroom was filled with the intoxicating smell of wild flowers.

When she was sufficiently pleased with her own state of cleanliness – and was frightfully certain she’d fall asleep right there in the tub if she stayed in it any longer – Lily dressed herself in her favorite pajamas before crawling under the covers and switching off her light. For half a second, she wondered whether Potter had returned from his walk yet. Then, she was fast asleep.

* * *

 

Lily’s eyes shot open as the deafening blare of an alarm cut through her dream. What was going on? Why was her alarm waking her when the sun hadn’t even come up yet? And why did it sound so different from usual? She stared into the darkness for a second, before realization hit her like an ice-cold punch in the gut. This was not her alarm clock announcing morning. This was the building’s main fire alarm announcing an emergency.

The building was on fire.

She cursed loudly as she shot out of bed and punched the light switch, illuminating her messy flat. She grimaced, blinking rapidly as she was blinded by the sudden brightness. She lifted one hand in front of her eyes, shielding them from the light as she dashed through her bedroom door. Her bare feet slapped against the stone floor while her eyes scanned the room. No smoke. The fire hadn’t reached her yet.

For a moment, she allowed herself to breathe. If the fire hadn’t reached her yet, there was still plenty of time to escape. Plenty of time to find her shoes and her wallet, perhaps even throw on a coat. She swallowed as she slammed her feet into her sneakers, not bothering to tighten the laces.

Maybe, if she was really lucky, it was but a false alarm. The alarm – either false or real – was ear-shattering though, and it ripped through her pounding head like a blade. She winced as her eyes scanned the flat for her purse and her left eye twitched involuntarily. Couldn’t they just shut the damn thing off?! She’d gotten the message. She was pretty sure every neighbor within a ten block radius had.

She froze, her head snapping up as the lights flickered once, twice, and then gave out completely. Her eyes shot open, desperate to catch the last shimmer of light before the darkness swallowed her whole. Even the standby light on her telly had died, and she choked on a stuttering breath as the sudden lack of light left her blind and disoriented.

Her heart skipped a beat before kicking into overdrive. Her hands trembled, a sheen of cold sweat dampening her palms. It was dark. She couldn’t see. She could never find her wallet now. And she couldn’t leave without it! Not carrying an ID was a criminal offense! What if a constable wanted her to identify herself and she couldn’t? he’d arrest her. He’d beat her. He’d throw her in jail and let her rot.

Oh, God.

What if he’d think she’d killed someone and had then set the building on fire to cover her tracks?

She hiccupped as a sob bubbled up from her tight chest. She yanked at her hair as she struggled to catch her breath. Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t want to die in jail for a crime she hadn’t committed.

She cried out as she stumbled, her knees banging hard against the floor as she fell. Pain shot up through her wrist as she tried to break her fall and she hissed, cradling the throbbing limb against her chest. Her eyes burned with tears.

If she couldn’t see, how was she ever getting out of here?

Her head snapped up. Barely loud enough to be heard over the whining alarm, she recognize the sound of frantic pounding. Someone was at her door. Clumsily, she crawled over her floor, afraid to climb back to her feet in case she’d fall again.

“Don’t stop knocking,” she cried out, hoping the person at the other side of the door would hear her, “I can’t find the door! Please, don’t stop knocking.”

They must have heard her, for it suddenly sounded as if the person on the other side was whacking the handle of their umbrella against the wood. Her arms shook with relief as it made the knocking sound much louder and clearer.

Her heart fluttered in her chest as she reached the wall at the far end of the apartment. The wallpaper felt rough underneath her fingers as she trailed it, attempting to ground herself. A shaky sigh floated over her lips like a ghost. The door was so close. She just had to look for the potted plant right next to it.

“Miss Evans!” Potter stumbled through her doorway, bumping into her as he lost his balance when she tore the door open, “Are you okay? We have to leave!”

She wanted to nod, to agree with him and to get the hell out of this place, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was: “I can’t find my wallet. I can’t leave without my wallet.”

Potter’s mouth sagged open as he gaped at her for a second or two. Then, his warm fingers wrapped around her good wrist, dragging her out of her apartment and into the hallway.

“Fuck your wallet,” he said, gazing into her eyes, “The building is on fire. We are getting out of here, right now.”

She knew he was right, of course. Who cared about a stupid wallet when they could burn alive. Or suffocate. And yet, her muscles locked as he tugged at her wrist, and her heart raced in her throat as somewhere deep inside of her a child clenched their eyes shut and screamed.

“Wait,” her voice sounded shrill and breathless as she struggled against his grip until her wrist slid out of his hand, “Are you sure I won’t get arrested?”

The flashlight hanging from a little strap around his wrist nudged her arm as he grabbed both of her shoulders. His eyes shimmered in the dancing light as he stared at her, no trace of mockery in his face.

“I promise.”

His grip was strong and comforting, like the promise he was making the screaming child inside her paused, staring at the man in front of her with tearful eyes. It nodded, releasing the grip it had on her muscles. Her head drooped, her eyes fluttering shut for a second. He promised.

His hand lingered on her shoulder as the other grabbed the flashlight, illuminating the dirty grey tiles in front of them. He squeezed her shoulder and her body leaned forward as his touch fell away. Then he was gone and she had to jog to keep up with him as he rushed after the circle of light.

As they hurried past the elevators, Lily realized three things: one, you weren’t supposed to use the elevators when the building was on fire, two, people were in fact using them, and three, she had no clue where the fire escape was. How stupid could you be? How foolish and dangerous? How could you live in a building for five years and not know how to escape from it? What had she been thinking? That she’d never need it? How naïve! Her mom would have been so disappointed in her…

She clenched her jaw, shaking her head to herself. At least Potter seemed to know where they were headed.

She collided with him when he stopped in front of a closed door, the emergency light emitting a sickly green glow above their heads, reflecting in the sweat on Potter’s flaring nostrils. She could feel trembles run through her arms as she reached for the handle.

“Wait!” Potter’s grip on her wrist was rough and she snapped her hand back with a startled hiss. She couldn’t see his eyes through his glasses as he looked down at her, but she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed, nervously scratching the back of his head, “Check first.”

He hesitated as he reached for the door, testing the wood with the back of his hand before resting his skin against it. She leaned forward, ready to drag him away from the door should he start cursing in pain. There was burn salve in her cabinet. Not that they could go back there.

“We’re good.”

Lily’s shoulders sagged as Potter pushed open the door with his. She brushed against him as she pushed past him, the flashlight in his hand slapping against her hip. People were running down the stairs. A child was blubbering with a high pitched wail, almost as loud as the still blaring alarm. It was louder here, its mechanical screams running down her spine and chilling her to the bone.

“Just follow the people down the stairs, Sweetie,” a woman said in a trying-to-be-soothing voice, “Everything is going to be okay.”

An elderly man and his wife were struggling down the stairs above them. The woman’s headscarf was sliding down her grey hair, her hands too busy clasping the railing to tug it back up. Her husband’s hand hovered underneath her elbow, ready to catch her should she lose her balance.

“C’mon,” Potter tugged at her sleeve before dashing down the stairs two at the time. The flashlight’s light danced up and down, bouncing of the walls as Potter skipped down the stairs, careful not to leave her too far behind.

Just a few flights down and she would be out. Everything was going to be just fine.

Except it wasn’t.

Her eyes widened as a low rumbling came from deep within the building, like a bellowing beast? Her head snapped to the side. Time seemed to slow down. Potter froze and she bumped into him, nearly sending him tumbling down the stairs. He shifted, half turning so he could face her. Her blood ran cold when she caught the look in his eyes. She’d seen that look before. On the intern’s face when they’re losing their first patient. On the parent’s face, who’s run over their own child. In that second, her heart stopped, because she realized what that rumbling meant.

They were all going to die.

Potter threw himself forward, knocking her against the floor, just as a deep tremble ripped through the stairs underneath her back. He grabbed her head, smashing her face against his shoulder as he buried his own in her hair, his weight pinning her against the floor. Her hand throttled his arm, her nails digging in his skin. She screamed, her voice loud and shrill, easily heard over Potter’s shouts of terror as the door was blown out of its hinges and the walls exploded around them. Debris clattered down and a chunk of concrete about the size of her washing machine shattered right next to their heads. Thick black smoke rolled in, bringing nothing but silence and stinging eyes.

She could hear the rushing of her blood, the rapid thump-thump-thump of her heart. Potter rolled off her and for a moment all they could do was gasp, unable to believe they were still alive. Lying side by side, she could feel him shaking in time with her own trembling.

“We’re alive.”

His voice was rough, but at least it was there. She turned her head towards him. His face, smeared with stone-dust and blood, was ghostly pale. One of his lenses had splintered, but she could still see her own fear reflected in his enormous eyes as he stared back at her.

She knew she should say something meaningful, should inquire about his health, but her mind was reeling and her mouth couldn’t quite form the words, “We need to get out of here.”

They helped each other to their feet, their hands clumsy and reluctant to let the other go. Lily wished she had something to tie over her face as she coughed harshly into the crease of her elbow. She crouched, her lugs burning and her hands numb as they dug the flashlight out of the rubble. Tears sprung to her eyes when Potter clicked the switch and the light flickered on, smoke and dust dancing in the beam. She could hardly believe it still worked, and thanked every God she could think of for this small miracle.

Her heart sank when Potter aimed the light upwards. The ceiling was gone; all she could see was a black hole. At least three floors had been blasted away in the explosion. Large chunks of concrete and other debris were blocking the way downstairs. There was no way they were going to escape through there.

Her head spun as she realized that if they had walked a little faster, if she hadn’t argued about her wallet or if Potter hadn’t tested the door, they would have been crushed to death under at least three floors of apartment building.

“It’s only one more floor down,” she startled when Potter rested his hand on her shoulder, “But we’ll have to go through the main building.”

_You’re mad_ , Lily wanted to say. There was a hole in the wall where minutes ago a sturdy door had been. She could hear the fire blazing on the other side of it and could faintly see an orange glow in the distance, though it was mostly obscured by the thick smoke spilling from the hole.

“We’ll suffocate.”

Potter clenched his jaw, brushing a hand through his hair, “We don’t have a choice.”

“I know,” she whispered, brushing her fingers against his arm. They were trembling as she struggled to breathe. Every inhale burned her throat and ripped through her chest as she fought the urge to cough. She could tell by the way Potter’s Adam’s apple was bobbing up and down that he too was having trouble. Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs as she glanced away from him and into the dark hell they were about to enter.

God, she didn’t want to. There had to be another way out. Any other way. She would jump from a window if that would keep her from going in _there_.

Potter was as reluctant to move as she was and they both stood staring, neither of them entering the hole that would probably bring their death. If only they could stay here. Just sit down and wait for a firefighter to get them out. But they couldn’t. She was already lightheaded. Here they would certainly die.

At least if they entered the hole, there was still a chance they might find a way out.

Lily rested her hand on Potter’s squeezing gently as she attempted to swallow down her fear. One of them would have to go first. It wasn’t right of her to expect it to be him. _She_ was supposed to be trained to handle emergencies. She dealt with them every day. _He_ wrote articles about transferring cricket players and fraudulent soccer coaches. He shouldn’t have to be the one to get them out of here.

“See you on the other side.”

Snatching the flashlight from his hand, she plunged into the darkness before he could object. She could feel his fingers snagging at hers, futile in their attempt to stop her.

“ _Evans!_ ” he hissed and she could hear him clambering after her.

The atmosphere shifted as soon as she was through the hole. Even crouching low to the ground, the smoky air scalded her skin and her lungs. Sweat dripped from under her armpits, drenching her shirt. The fire bellowed like a tornado as it destroyed her home. It was nothing like the cozy hearth she remembered from her parent’s home. This fire was an animal, a monster.

She had ha d trouble breathing in the stairway, but in here she felt like she was already supposed to be dead. The air was like scalpels, cutting through her with every choked inhale. Her eyes watered as she couldn’t stop coughing, her head heavy and pulsing in time with her heartbeat. Her stomach churned.

There was wreckage littered across the hall and her gut clenched when she noticed a pale arm sticking from underneath a collapsed door. It wasn’t moving. She hesitated, her eyes shifting, searching for something to use as a lever. She glanced over her shoulder as Potter’s hand touched her calf. He shook his head. There was nothing to be done. The owner of the arm was most likely already dead. They had to think of themselves if they didn’t want to end up like him.

She shrieked and choked as part of the ceiling clattered down in front of her, a wire hissing angrily as it sparked. The hair on her arms rose as ice ran down her spine. Could smoke explode?

“There,” croaked Potter, gasping noisily as he struggled to breathe. He looked almost translucent in the beam of her flashlight, his eyes red and swollen and his parted lips cracked. He swayed when he lifted his hand, pointing. She frowned, turning her head to see what he was pointing at. Part of the outer wall had collapsed by the earlier explosion and smoke was billowing out of it. All they had to do was reach that hole and they would be out. Safe.

Potter’s noisy breathing worried her. She halted, waiting for him to catch up with her. He struggled to climb over the debris, sometimes stumbling into the remnants of people’s apartments. Down here, the explosion had destroyed a lot. It made her wonder how long they really had until the building would collapse.

They all but fell through the hole, clutching at each other as they stumbled down a pile of debris. Lily bent over as she choked on the air, coughing until she was certain she was dying. She clawed at her neck, tore at the fabric of her shirt as she gurgled. She could feel Potter’s weight against her side as he attempted to support her, but ended up needing her for support.

Lily didn’t struggle as strong hands grabbed her arms, leading her away from the hell she’d just escaped. Her legs were quivering and her knees had turned into jelly. Around her, the world was spinning, the colors draining until all she could see were shades of grey. She fell, and the hands caught her just before her head could slam against the pavement. Someone was talking to her, telling her that she was safe now and asking her for her name.

She couldn’t find the energy to answer.

She all but cried with relief when they strapped an oxygen mask over her face and she could finally breathe. Someone shined a light in her eyes and checked her for injuries while asking her questions. What was her name? Did she know where she was and what had happened? Did she have any family left in the building? Was there someone they could call?

She didn’t remember what or how she answered, but it must have been satisfactory, for they bandaged her wrist and wrapped a thick blanket around her shoulders, telling her to just breathe for a moment and to notify a paramedic should she need something.

Everything was like a dream. Red and blue lights were flashing like fireworks. Was there a party going on? There were people shouting and running. Some were crying. Not a party then. What was she doing here again? Her hands trembled as she clutched at her blanket. She wanted her mother.

She knew she shouldn’t, but she tore the oxygen mask from her face. Invisible to those around her, she climbed to her feet, swaying as she pulled the blanket closer around her. Someone said something to her, but she ignored them as she wandered past the dozens of ambulances, peering inside them. In one of them sat the elderly couple she’d seen on the stairs. The man was sobbing while he tenderly fixed his wife’s scarf, both of them clutching at each other.

Her lower lip trembled when he finally found the person she was looking for. James Potter was lying on an ambulance bed with his eyes closed. A paramedic had wrapped a thick bandage around his head and an oxygen mask was strapped to his face. When she climbed into the ambulance, she could see his breath condensate against the plastic. His eyes fluttered open and they stared at each other, neither of them speaking.

“We’re alive,” Lily finally whispered, tears filling her eyes. His hand felt rough as he grasped hers, squeezing. She sniffled, blinking rapidly.

“We are,” he agreed, his voice muffled underneath the mask. She couldn’t stop the tears spilling over her cheeks. He was gently as he lifted his hand, brushing his fingers over her face, the fingers of his other hand squeezing hers more strongly. She couldn’t breathe.

“We could have died,” she sobbed, clutching at his hand, “People _have_ died tonight. That could have been us!”

“I know,” he mumbled and her tears fell faster, “But we didn’t. We’re fine, Miss Evans, I promise.”

“I can’t lose you,” she blubbered and he startled, “Don’t you understand.”

There was a second of silence.

“I do,” his voice was grave, “Believe me, I do.”

Lily hiccupped, swallowing down the hysteria bubbling in her chest. She stared at him, her vision troubled with sill falling tears. Her heart was suddenly pounding, her stomach clenching as she glanced at their entwined fingers.

“What do you mean?” she whispered, afraid to hear the answer.

“I think that you know,” he said and a shudder ran down her spine. Yes. She knew. They both knew.

She nodded.

“Miss Evans-” he started, but she interrupted him.

“Lily,” she said, “It’s Lily.

“Lily,” he repeated, and tore the oxygen mask from his face, closing the gap between them.

_Yes_ , she thought as fireworks went off in the back of her mind when his lips touched hers, _she knew exactly what he meant._


End file.
